


FWB

by Ltleflrt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: FWB:
see 'friends with benefits' 
casual relationship implying no commitment, but involving companionship (the friends bit) and some sort of physical element like making out, sex, baseball (the benefits). although rumored to be a myth, absolutely possible.





	FWB

**Author's Note:**

> Jupiter_james challenged me to write a oneshot shorter than 20k. I win :D
> 
> I wonder if I get extra cookies for finishing it with less than 5k?

Friends with Benefits is usually the term used for people who get together just to fuck on occasion.  But what Castiel has with Dean is different.  They are _actually_ friends.

They met in college through their mutual friend Charlie, at board game night.  After Castiel noticed Dean’s   _I <3 Sexy Doctors _t-shirt they’d spent more time debating the nuances of Doctor Piccolo’s character than they had playing any games.  It became a regular occurrence at the bi-monthly game nights, which eventually turned into exchanging numbers so they could continue the argument via text.  After a while that turned into pizza nights and marathons, which led to geeky movie premiers in costume, mini golf when the mood to get outside struck, and even babysitting Castiel’s niece Claire on a few occasions.

The point is, they have fun together.  Even with all their clothes on.  

Taking them off had been… an accident.  An alcohol induced accident.  

Okay so it was less of an accident and more of an _I’m too drunk to drive can I crash on your couch, oh this is the bed, holy crap it’s hot I need to get naked_.  Somehow they’d both had the same idea.  Luckily they had been too drunk to do anything until the next morning when they were sober enough to talk it out.   _Sort of._

“Cas, if I offer to suck you off will you still respect me in the morning?”

“It’s morning right now, Dean.”

“I’m not getting a yes or a no here, buddy.”

“Well, I suppose if you really feel like you need to, I won’t complain.  And I’ll at least pretend to respect you until after lunch time.”

Dean gives really good head.  

Castiel knows because he’s experienced it many times since then, and it wasn’t just the lingering effects of the alcohol that made that morning special.  It was Dean’s lips, and his fingers, and the way he’d smile with his eyes whenever Castiel let out a whine.

After reciprocating with a handjob, Castiel had dragged Dean out of bed and gave him puppy eyes until he made them both waffles.  Dean makes really good waffles.  Another thing Castiel has experienced many times.  And just like the blowjobs, the waffles keep him coming back for more.

But their relationship doesn’t revolve around sex.  They still watch shitty hospital dramas and argue over plot holes, and they still attend Charlie’s board game nights and slaughter each other mercilessly at Risk.  They still annoy the shit out of each other with their ridiculous love for their cars.  They still laugh together.  They still hang out without sex.

They are still _just_ friends.  With the added benefit of sex when one of them has an itch to scratch.  Which is why it’s really annoying that no one believes him when he says so.

“When are you bringing your boyfriend around again?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Jimmy.”

“He’s a boy.  He’s your friend.”

“Last I checked, I’m the asshole with the literal sense of humor.  You’re just an asshole.”

“Well we can’t be completely identical.”

It’s even worse when Dean does things that make their friends give them The Look.  The one that says _you are blind fools, just own up to your raging man-love already._

Like the time they were celebrating Dean’s birthday at the Roadhouse.  The place was packed, and despite the fact that Dean was the closest thing Ellen had to a son aside from Sam (and Jo, but no one ever dares say that to the spunky blonde’s face unless they want a split lip), there wasn’t much room for the party.  Sam and his girlfriend Madison were sharing a chair because she’s lucky enough to fit in his lap.  Benny, Ash, Charlie, and Jo had commandeered the rest of the table by the time Dean and Castiel arrived.  

Not that Castiel minded standing.  His ass was still a little tender from the extra hard dicking Dean had given him earlier (the real reason they were late, and of course no one believed Dean’s excuse of ‘car troubles’), and he wasn’t ready to sit in an uncushioned chair for a little while.  And Dean, well he’s a wanderer.  He won’t sit still for long anyway.  He’ll be up and at the bar to talk to Ellen, or he’ll wander around tables to greet other acquaintances.  So no one was going to bother to give up their seat for him anyway.

After a few beers, during which Dean had wandered away and back again at least three or four times, Ash had piped up that Dean should see if he could get some tail for his birthday and that if Cas wasn’t going to play wingman, Ash would know what to do.

Dean had laughed, his body rocking and rolling with his mirth.  “I don’t need a wingman, Ash!”

Castiel jumped when Dean’s palm connected smartly with his ass, leaving behind a tingle under the denim of his jeans, and reawakening the fading ache between his legs.

“I got myself a booty call, right here!”

Everyone at the table had laughed or groaned, but at some point they’d all given Dean and Castiel _The Look_.  It was irritating enough that Castiel had shoved Dean down on the bed later that night and nearly fucked him into the next week.  Afterwards Dean had grinned, lazy and sated, and so fucking pleased with himself, announcing that he’s glad Castiel’s buttons are so easy to push, because happy fucking birthday to him.

Rolling his eyes and turning away from Dean, Castiel had muttered into his pillow.  “You could have just asked.”

Seconds later Dean was draped over his back, an arm tightening around Castiel’s stomach to pull him close.  Soft lips played against the short hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck.  “Good to know, buddy.  Good to know.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

“Fuck yeah it is.”

Irreverent bastard.  Castiel lov- _enjoys_ that aspect of his personality.

Which is why, when he knocks on Dean’s door for their weekly pizza and Doctor Sexy get-together, he’s not surprised or put off by what greets him.

The door swings open quickly, startling Castiel.  His eyes widen when he takes in Dean’s outfit.  

Or lack, thereof.

“You like my new apron, Cas?”

Castiel eyes the bare curve of Dean’s shoulders and the length of his arms and legs, enjoying the play of freckles and light golden hair spread across the skin.  Then he focuses on the apron.  It’s neon green and says “may I suggest the sausage” above a graphic of a finger pointing down.

“You know,” Castiel says, slowly pulling his eyes up to meet Dean’s mischievous grin.  “Suddenly I’m craving sausage-”

“Oh I got some sausage for you, buddy.”

“-on my pizza.”

Dean snorts, rolling his eyes as he steps back to make room for Castiel to enter.  “Get in here, you dick.”

“I could go with a side of dick, too,” Castiel says as he drops his messenger bag next to the door.  He’d brought his art supplies in case tonight’s episode makes his fingers itch to draw a comic making fun of the storyline.  He may be a huge fan, but he’s also aware that the show is cheesy as fuck.  Which is a large part of it’s charm.

Dean’s whole body perks up.  “Oh yeah?  Got plenty of that to go around too.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as Dean turns away to go back to the kitchen, but he follows along, enjoying the flex of Dean’s ass cheeks as he saunters ahead of him.  “Yes, yes, you’re very well endowed.”

Lifting a triumphant fist above his head, Dean grunts “Booyah!”

“Are you seriously cooking naked?”  Castiel takes a seat on a stool at the kitchen island, where Dean has a couple cutting boards covered in pizza toppings.  He sneaks a slice of pepperoni and pops it in his mouth while Dean isn’t looking.

“The important bits are covered.”  Dean gets into the fridge and brings out a ball of dough wrapped in plastic.  His teeth are unfairly white behind the pink of his lips when he flashes a grin in Castiel’s direction.

“It seems very unhygienic.”

Dean unwraps the dough and starts flattening it, spinning and turning it until it goes from a ball to a disk.  “I bathed first.” He bounces his eyebrows suggestively. “Clean inside and out, if you know what I mean.”

It means he wants a tongue up his ass.  Castiel is more than willing to oblige.  He’s half-hard just from watching Dean flit around in nothing but an apron.  Opening Dean up with his tongue so he can fill him up with his dick later sounds like his idea of a good time.  

He doesn’t respond other than to lift an eyebrow and grab another piece of pepperoni.

Dean’s flirtatious smile disappears and he points a stern finger at Castiel.  “Stay out of the toppings.”

“I feel like I should make a joke about who’s topping tonight,” Castiel says dryly.  He risks getting his hand smacked and grabs one last pepperoni, smirking at his success as he chews it.  

With a warning glare, Dean backs up from the counter and starts spinning the dough on his knuckles.  “I’d think it’d be pretty obvious.”

“Oh… I think I got the message loud and clear.”

They grin at each other, and then Dean turns his focus to the dough in his hands and begins spinning it in earnest.  Castiel stays out of the pizza toppings, but he does stay at the kitchen island to watch Dean work, admiring the way the apron ties hang down into the crack of his ass every time he turns around.  They talk.  They joke around.  They tell stories about their day.  They pretend they’re not going to fuck.

Once the pizza is in the oven, Dean puts everything away and wipes down the counter.  Then he comes around the kitchen island and grabs the stool, turning it until Castiel is facing him.  He wedges his hips between Castiel’s knees and dips his head for a kiss.

As Dean’s tongue slides over Castiel’s bottom lip, Castiel wonders if other people in a Friends With Benefits situation kiss like this.  Neither of them try to move things along.  Castiel rests his hands on Dean’s bare hips, rubbing circles in the soft skin with his thumbs.  Dean leans into Castiel’s chest, drapes strong arms over his shoulders.  The kiss is soft, gentle.  They break apart for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes, searching for something, before coming back together again.

When they kiss like this, Castiel doesn’t feel like they’re just friends.  The term “lovers” barely applies.  He feels like there’s something, a spark, a depth to their relationship that he’s afraid to look at too closely.  Because he’s terrified Dean doesn’t feel the same thing he does, and the last thing he wants to do is lose this.

They make out until the oven timer dings, and when Dean pulls back he looks down at himself and chuckles.  His apron sticks out obscenely, tented where his dick is pressing against it.  He looks up at Castiel through his lashes.  “Oops.  Should probably keep that put away until after dinner, huh?”

Castiel is hard inside his own jeans, and envies Dean his current freedom.  He runs a knuckle over the head of Dean’s dick through the green fabric, savoring his sharp inhale at the touch.  “Go check the pizzas, before they burn,” he murmurs.

A tiny thrust of his hips against Castiel’s fingers is Dean’s response before he turns away to do as he’s told.  Castiel’s eyes drop to the green ties hanging down Dean’s ass, and licks his lips.  He might have to take a reference picture for a sketch.

They bring their dinner out to the living room, and pile on the couch together.  Dean is making small little noises as he tries to bite into his first slice while it’s too hot, and Castiel grabs the remote to start up the show.  It hasn’t started yet, so they watch the tail end of the show right before it, settling back into the cushions and leaning into each other.

Castiel sometimes wonder if the cuddling he and Dean do is also something that falls under the umbrella of Friends With Benefits.  He’s never heard of it before, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing.

They’re finished eating in time for the show to start, and Castiel is thinking of asking for seconds, but Dean shifts next to him, stretching his legs out and propping one over Castiel’s knee.  He’s still wearing nothing but his ridiculous green apron that brings out his eyes.

Castiel glances at him, and finds Dean staring back, bottom lip caught between his teeth.  “Dean?”

“Heya, Cas.”

“It’s about to start.”

“It’s just a disease of the week episode.”

Dean lifts his knee a little and there is a distinct tenting under the green fabric.

He’s right, but Castiel still wants to see what kind of strange, made up disease they’re going to come up with.  However, Dean _did_ dress up just for him.  He glances at the tv, then back to Dean who bounces his eyebrows and smiles wider, his lip sliding free of his teeth.

Well, who says he can’t have both?

“Get on your knees on the floor,” Cas murmurs.  

The way Dean lights up is both sexy and endearing.  He slides off the couch and moves to kneel between Castiel’s thighs, but Castiel shakes his head.  He holds up one hand, finger pointing down, and twirls it in a circle in a silent command for Dean to turn around.  Dean frowns, but he obeys.  

Castiel braces a foot against the coffee table and pushes it forward about a foot.  “Bend over the table.”

Dean doesn’t hesitate.  He leans over it and practically wags his ass.  He looks over his shoulder expectantly.

“Watch the show, Dean,” Castiel says as he slides down on the floor behind him.

One tawny eyebrow goes up, but Dean doesn’t argue.  He turns back to the show, but his body is tense with anticipation.

Castiel palms the globes of Dean’s ass, spreading them wide.  The little noise Dean makes in the back of his throat makes him smile.  He brushes the pad of his thumb close to the edge of Dean’s hole, tugging gently at the skin petting at the light dusting of hair around it.  Dean manscapes, but he doesn’t shave and Castiel really likes that.  

The muscle flexes, and Castiel’s breath catches in his throat.  Already his mouth is starting to water at the thought of tonguing the pale pink skin, but he can’t just give Dean what he wants immediately.  That wouldn’t be very much fun.  So he just continues tracing shapes around Dean’s hole, brushing the hair back and forth, pressing just below his balls.  

He’s already lost track of what’s going on in the show.  Something about excessive hair loss being a sign of something something, yadda yadda.  

“Cas…”

“Hm?”

“You just gonna play with it, or are you going to tongue fuck me?”

“Probably both, eventually.”

Dean groans and his head drops between his shoulders.  It’s a commercial break, so Castiel doesn’t remind him to keep watching the show.  “You’re a dick.”

“You like my dick,” Castiel reminds him.  He doesn’t wait for a response before leaning forward and licking a long stripe from Dean’s balls to his tail bone.  He tastes delicious.  Clean and fresh, with just a hint of Dean’s natural musk.  

The sound Dean makes prompts him to do it again.

By the time the commercial break is over, Castiel is slowly pressing his tongue into the tight ring of muscle which is loosening up for him already.  He pauses long enough to tell Dean to pay attention to the show, and then goes back to tongue fucking him.  He slides his tongue in and out, then circles around it until Dean presses his hips back.

“More, Cas.”

“My tongue is only so long,” Castiel says right up against Dean’s hole.  It flutters against his lips, and he presses a chaste kiss against it.  It’s a commercial break again.  “So do you think they’ll have to operate-” he shoves his tongue deep, holding it as stiff as he can, then pulls back, “-or do you think Doctor Sexy is right that she’s being poisoned by something?”

“Holy fuck, do you really think I’ve been paying attention?”  Dean’s voice is high and breathy.

Castiel chuckles.  “If not, I hope you’re recording it.”

“‘Course I am.”

“Good.” Castiel pulls back and smacks Dean’s left cheek hard enough to make him yelp.  “Because I’d really like to fuck you now.”

“Oh thank god.”  

“Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”  Dean gets to his feet and holds out a hand to help Castiel to his.  He doesn’t let go, dragging him down the hall to his room.  

He goes straight for his bedside drawer, grabs a bottle of lube and a condom.  Castiel hurries to strip out of his clothes while Dean gets on the bed, and makes himself comfortable among the many pillows he likes to sleep with.  He pulls his knees up, and while Castiel is still struggling to free his feet from his jeans, squeezes some lube onto his fingers before reaching down and sliding two of them inside himself.

“Jesus,” Castiel breathes.  God damn, but Dean is beautiful.  But he looks kind of ridiculous with the apron bunched around his waist.  After freeing himself from his last sock, Castiel crawls onto the bed and settles on his knees between Dean’s spread thighs.  His eyes don’t leave Dean’s fingers as he thrusts them in deep and then pulls them out, tugging on his rim to loosen himself up.  “You gonna leave that thing on?”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with mischief but his tone is completely serious.  “Damn right I am.”

“You give me the weirdest fetishes, I swear,” Castiel says, shaking his head ruefully.  

Truthfully, he doesn’t mind.  In fact, he really really likes it.

“I’ve got a fetish for your dick in my ass,” Dean says as he spreads his fingers obscenely wide, giving Castiel a glimpse of pink.  “Get a condom on, and get in me.”

Castiel doesn’t need to be told twice.  He grabs the condom near Dean’s hip and rips the foil open.  He enjoys the weight of Dean’s stare as he rolls the rubber on, but doesn’t slow down to give him a show.  At this point, he wants to be inside Dean just as badly as Dean wants it.

He applies a little more lube to his newly wrapped dick, and then without further prompting grabs Dean’s hips and pull them up onto his thighs.  With one hand he guides himself into Dean’s tight heat, and they both moan when he bottoms out.

Dean wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist.  “Fuck me, Cas.”

So he does.  He starts out slow, the way he knows Dean likes it (hell, they _both_ like it), driving deep and pulling out gently.  He has to push the head of his dick past the tight ring of muscle on each thrust, and he’s careful to keep himself lined up properly.  But eventually Dean wants more, and Castiel gives into his begging.  He leans forward and braces his palms on the mattress to either side of Dean’s head and fucks him fast and hard until his muscles burn with protest and force him to slow down again.

He keeps up the pattern.  Slow and teasing.  Hard and deep.  Slow and gentle.  Hard and fast.  Rinse repeat.  Until Dean is red and sweating and babbling with the need to come.  He’s jerking his own dick, but every time Castiel changes his rhythm it throws Dean off and brings him back from the edge.

“Please, Cas, _fuck…_ ”

“What do you need, Dean?” Castiel pants.  Their faces are inches apart.  So close that Dean’s freckles blur together in Castiel’s vision, and all he registers is _green green green_ as he stares into Dean’s eyes.  

“Ki-kiss me,” Dean gasps.  “ _Please._ Need you.  Want y-”

Castiel cuts him off, devouring Dean’s mouth.  Tasting, biting, sucking.  He’s close to his own orgasm now too.  He shifts his hips and swallows Dean’s keening noises as he does his best to steadily fuck against Dean’s prostate until he’s squeezing and pulsing around Castiel’s dick as he comes between their bellies.  Two thrusts, three - and Castiel is following him over the edge.

When he can’t hold himself up anymore, he shifts so that Dean’s hips will be in a more comfortable position, but stays between his legs and drapes himself over Dean’s torso.  He buries his face against Dean’s throat and waits for his heartbeat to slow, and his breathing to even out.  

Dean wraps his arms around Castiel, even as he tries to catch his own breath.  His blunt fingertips trace patternless lines and circles and curlicues over Castiel’s shoulders, up and down his spine, across his hips, up into the hair at the back of his neck.  It makes Castiel’s muscles turn to jelly, and he let’s more of his weight sink onto Dean’s chest.

“Cas?” Dean whispers after a few minutes.

“Yes, Dean?”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Castiel’s muscles tighten up so hard and so fast that pain twinges between his shoulders.  “What?”  

He doesn’t lift his head.  He keeps his face buried against Dean’s throat.  He can’t look at him.  Can’t let Dean see his devastation.  

A litany of _why, why, WHY, what did I do wrong??_ Plays on repeat inside his head, almost drowning out Dean’s next words.

“This Friends With Benefits thing?” Dean husks out, his voice shaky like he’s on the verge of crying.  Castiel still can’t lift his head to look.  “It’s not… I can’t… man, I don’t want it to be like this anymore.”

“Why?” Castiel manages to push out through lips gone tingly with panic.

Dean’s fingers still in his hair, his palm warm and solid against the back of Castiel’s neck for a moment before sliding forward so he can leverage his thumb under Castiel’s jaw and nudge him out of hiding.  Castiel tries to avoid looking at him as he lifts his head, but they’re too close.  Unless he closes his eyes, he won’t be able to avoid-

He freezes when his eyes meet Dean’s.  Tears pool against his long golden lashes, and he looks absolutely terrified.  A single tear spills free to slide down his cheek.  Castiel would do _anything_ to wipe away the fear and pain there.  But he also sees something else.  He thinks it’s… hope?  Warmth?  

“Cas, man I love you.  And I know we never really talked about this whole benefits thing but-”

Castiel cuts him off with a kiss.  It’s too hard, and their teeth clack together painfully.  But he can’t stop himself.  Dean loves him.

Dean _loves_ him.

“I love you too,” he says as soon as he lifts his head.  “Dean… I’ve… I didn’t know if you’d… it’s been so hard not saying anything.”

He’s babbling, and he can tell it takes Dean a moment to parse what he’s saying.  But when he does, it’s like watching the sun come out, his smile is so bright.  

“You mean that, Cas?”

“Every time you called me ‘buddy’, I wanted to stab you.”

Dean’s head tilts back against the pillows and his whole body shakes with laughter.  It calms down to wheezing chuckles and he finally meets Castiel’s eyes again.  “You sure did a good job of hiding it,” he says once he has enough breath to speak again.  

“I just fucked you instead.”

Dean’s teeth flash in a cheeky grin.  “Well then I hope you don’t mind if I still call you ‘buddy’ now and then.”

“As long as you don’t mind walking funny for a few days afterwards.”  Castiel pauses and tilts his head thoughtfully.  “Although, you walk funny most of the time anyway.”

“Hey now,” Dean warns, but he doesn’t continue the threat.  “So does this mean we’re boyfriends?”

“We’re boys.  We’re friends.”

“You are such a literal asshole.”

“I’m a full grown man, not just the personification of a-”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss.

“Okay, so,” Castiel breathes when Dean releases him.  “Boyfriends, it is.”


End file.
